


These Shadows That Do Not Hide

by BlueEyedBastard



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedBastard/pseuds/BlueEyedBastard
Summary: Argo's life was unlike anyone else's on the Ark. He was trained to be a weapon. An unfeeling, cold and calculating weapon. When the 100 are sent down to earth, it is his mission to protect them. But things are never that simple with his mentor, and like the rest of his life he must act in secret. They would fear and hate him if they knew who he was, what he was...but he's their best chance at survival.Follows storyline as seen on the tv show but focuses on my original character.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, thank you for checking out my story. I have this all pretty much planned out and it is quite a ride. Updates will be slow and inconsistent as I am very busy with life and struggle with motivation. Any feedback is much appreciated, if you like the story and would like it to continue, please leave a kudos and comment as those will feed my motivation to write. Enjoy.

I should kill him. 

"Prisoner 234. Against the wall." 

Then they'd kill me. 

"Prisoner 234. Against the wall. Now." 

And I'd be done with this shit. 

The Captain stood at 6'4, 220lbs of solid muscle. He had finished at the top of his class despite being years younger due to his advanced skills. His years of the best training available had made him arrogant. Prisoner 234 was no threat to him.  
In the next cell over, Corporal Richards had finished with prisoner 157. He was about to move on to the next cell when he noticed that the door to his left was still closed. Captain Wayne was known for his short temper but he had a soft spot for Richards. Realistically, the Captain was having no trouble with the prisoner but still, it never hurt to be sure. He cleared the distance to the door confidently with a slight spring in his step. Richards always had a spring in his step. 

He opened the door and stepped in with his head down, frowning at a scuff mark he had on his shoe. "Captain," His eyes were still downward. "everything alri-" 

Wayne was laying with his head down and his body sprawled at an awkward angle. A pool of blood was forming around his head. Richards felt his stomach drop as he reached for his own stun stick. His eyes fell to the only other person in the room, the prisoner, who was standing a few feet away from the Captain. 

"You! What the hell did you do!?" The prisoner's eyes never left his. "I killed him."  
Richard's eyes were normally so kind. If anyone were to ask you about them, they would always comment on how bright they were. They were full of fire as he charged the youth, thoughts of justice and revenge on his mind. 

He never felt his body hit the floor. 

*** 

His consciousness came back to him all at once. The bright lights made it so that his eyes took a second to adjust. A slight ringing in his ear made it difficult to hear. When his eyes swam into focus, he realized that there was nothing to hear over the ringing but the screaming of those around. He glanced quickly to left and then again to the right. 

Prisoners. All around him. Strapped into their seats. His mind raced as he struggled to make sense of his current situation. He ran through his checklist and found that each left him more than unsatisfied. 

And then it stopped. A quietness seemed to descend throughout the space and as it draped itself over the teens, confusing them. It was then that one boy commented on the humming of the machines, or rather the lack thereof. One by one, the teens began taking off their safety straps and slowly making their way down the levels to that of the lowest. He released his own safety belt and rose on shaky legs. He placed a hand on the wall to study him as he brought his other to grip his head. A wave of nausea washed over him and he decided to sit back down until the spell passed. This level was all but empty except for two other prisoners, a blonde girl and a shaggy black haired boy.  
They were speaking in hushed tones that prisoner 234 didn’t care to eavesdrop on. 

He looked down at his hands and willed them to stop shaking. After a few deep breaths, the trembling slowed until his hand was steady. There was a dull ache still in the back of his head but that was a very minor annoyance to the youth. He took one final deep breath before scanning the room. He had already guessed that whatever containment they were in had hurled through space so the damage was unsurprising. He heard voices from the level below him, arguing. 

Suddenly the blonde girl rose and made her way down to the lower level. He took in the confident way with which she carried herself and made a mental note of it, storing it in the back of his mind for later. 

The boy had not moved. He remained crouched over what 234 could now see was a body on the floor. 234 rose and slowly made his way over, stopping just a few feet away. 

“What happened?”  
Finn’s head snapped to look at where the question had come from. He hadn’t heard the newcomer approach or even that he was in the room. 

“They had uh…gotten out of their seats. When we hit the atmosphere they got thrown around and…” he gave a shrug and 234 noticed the defeated droop to his shoulders. 

Normal, he supposed. For someone who is normal anyways. 

“You’re sure they’re dead?” The tone was neither hesitant nor accusing and that pissed Finn off even more. These two were dead and this stranger was talking about it as if it was the weather! 

“Yes I’m sure they’re dead!” he snapped. His glare had no affect on the boy though as he didn’t even flinch. Sighing, Finn stood and the two stood face to face. 

“Sorry I’m just…sorry.” He shook his head before meeting the other prisoner’s gaze. Finn couldn’t quite place why but he found there to be something off about the blue eyes that stared back. “Go” he said. “I’m sure you’re dying to go see earth like everyone else. I got this in here.” 

At this, the prisoner did react. His brow narrowed and he inhaled sharply. Without a pause, he spun on his heel and made his way to the ground first level of the ship. 

He could hear the sound of laughter and excited babble from outside though he couldn’t see anything. The glare from the…sun? robbed him of getting a good view. 

His strides were slow and unsure as he made his way to the door. He closed his eyes as he stepped off the edge of the metal door and took three more steps before opening them. 

His breath caught as the colours revealed themselves to his eyes. In his youth, he had thought of the Ground often. Whatever he had envisioned was nothing compared to the sight before him. 

Green. 

All around him. The trees as they shook gently in the wind. 

The wind! His mind raced as the sensation overwhelmed in. He took in a huge breath and felt his lungs expand with air from the Ground. The slow exhale was arguably the most peaceful moment of his life. So he did it again. And again. 

It could have been minutes or hours that he stood there just breathing in the world around him. He could faintly hear the shouting and laughter of all the other prisoners around him. To him, they were only background noise, a dull reminder that he was sharing this feeling of freedom with others. 

But he wasn't. Not really. 

His breath fell short at the implication. 

He was on the Ground. Away from the Ark. 

Free. 

Never again would he have to endure another trial or pass a test. No more long hours of deprivation or training. Just freedom.  
A light pulsing in his chest started then. It slowly expanded as he soaked in his newfound world. It grew heavy over hs heart, grew to encompass his lungs, making it hard it breathe. He couldn't believe it. For the first time in years, he felt something he had lost long ago. 

Hope. 

Slowly, with trembling hands, he brought one palm to rest over his heart. It was beating fast, impossibly so. On reflex, his fingers tensed as he gripped his clothes, the fabric crumpling and - 

Crumpling? 

He gave his breast another tentative squeeze and sure enough, the crumpling sound came again. 

No. 

A ball dropped in his gut. He looked down and noticed that his jacket had a zipper. He frantically pulled it down and tore the jacket open. With still trembling hands, he reached into the inner left of the jacket and felt until his hands came ahold of a zipper. He slowly tugged it back and reached inside. 

His hand closed around a folded piece of paper. He brought it out and raised it to his eye level. His breathing stopped and his hand no longer trembled. Opening it, he read the words, whispering them to himself in disbelief. 

Keep them safe. We will be joining you shortly.

He replaced the folded paper into his pocket and zipped up his jacket. His breath came out steadily now and he looked at his steady hands. 

Argo no longer felt hope. 

There was no place for it now. 

Argo had a mission.


End file.
